


The Accused and the Dying

by Evedawalrus



Series: Minimegs Week 2019 [4]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Execution, M/M, Minimegs Week 2019, cause i know you can probably guess what's goin on here, sorry in advance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 13:03:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20258542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evedawalrus/pseuds/Evedawalrus
Summary: The prisoner has one last request.Written for day 4 of Minimegs Week, for the prompt: War/Justice.





	The Accused and the Dying

It’s a kind of justice. 

Megatron was a killer. It was there in the ever-present weight on his right arm; how he always had to shift his weight so he did not lead with it when he walked. It was there in his nightmares, in the dents shaped like fingers in the sides of his berth. It was there in the accusing glare of the human delegate who sat in the audience behind the reinforced glass. Her name was Marissa Faireborn. He knew this because asked, because in his last days he wanted to think of her with respect. 

Minimus sat next to her. He was so skilled at control – it was something Megatron always admired about him. Even now, as his frame was strapped down to the table, Minimus’s expression remained blank. His optics remained cold. In a memory he clung to, those optics were filled with tears. 

Minimus had come by Megatron’s cell the day before. Arms in parade rest behind his back, he nodded to the guard, who opened the cell and removed Megatron’s shackles. Megatron’s optics had widened at that, even more so when his guard shut the cell and walked away down the hall. He turned to the minibot, who upon second glance he realized was without both sets of armor.

“Minimus?”

Minimus didn’t meet his optics. “I wanted to speak with you.”

Megatron cocked his head to the side, massaging his sore wrists. “How did you manage to get the guard away like that? I would think Prowl would be quite vocally opposed to leaving me unmonitored.” 

“Prowl doesn’t know about this. I… pulled a few strings. Being the former Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord helps when you need favors.” 

“Ah.” Megatron nodded. “Well, while you’re here, sit by me.” He patted the empty space next to him on the cell’s berth. Though Minimus seemed hesitant at first, he walked over and hefted himself up onto the berth, turning down Megatron’s helping hand. 

“While you’re here, Minimus, I would like to… thank you,” Megatron sighed, putting on a tired smile as he stared at nothing in particular (though really, the cell had not much  _ to _ stare at). “You’ve done so much for me, and I feel that I haven’t shown you enough gratitude for it. Minimus,” he said, taking one of Minimus’s small hands into his own, “you have been an ally and a friend, even when I haven’t deserved it. Your passion to keep everyone safe – your diligence – your… ah.. your friendship… It means more to me than I can say.” 

He brushed a thumb across Minimus’s knuckles, noting how clean and untarnished they were in comparison to his. An errant thought of what it might be like to feel Minimus carefully polishing his worn hands flickered through his processor – but no. He could never be that lucky. “Thank you, Minimus Ambus.”

When he looked up, Minimus was gazing at him with wide and watery eyes. It was as if someone had taken a hammer and shattered the stone mask that was a constant presence on the minibot, leaving something fresh and raw and tender. Megatron did not know what to say.

And then, Minimus was kissing him. 

It was unrestrained, sloppy, desperate. Minimus fiercely pressed their lips together like it was a fight rather than an admittance of something he was too afraid to say. It was painfully clear that he had never kissed anyone before. Even then, the ferocity with which he wrapped his arms around Megatron’s head and clung tight to his frame betrayed the sheer passion that burned behind his closed optics. 

A wave of shock rolled through Megatron, his optics flaring violently. Almost immediately after, he felt a terrible urge to give in, kiss Minimus back, kiss him and kiss him and never take another breath as long as he lived. 

Instead, he pulled back. Minimus leaned after him for a moment, then opened his optics, vents heaving. He stared up at Megatron with an almost betrayed look. 

“I-... Minimus. Minimus. You feel.. Oh, Minimus.” Megatron hadn’t known what to do with his hands before. Now, he placed them on Minimus’s back – they covered much of his frame easily. 

The minibot let free a shaky breath, tears beading at the edge of his optics. “...It’s not fair.”

“It’s… Minimus, you’ve… you’ve seen the things I’ve done. I’m a murderer. I’m worse than that. You know just as well as anyone else that I deserve what will happen tomorrow,” Megatron sighed heavily.

Minimus screwed his optics shut, pushing back from Megatron’s chest with fisted hands. “Shut  _ up!” _

Megatron gaped at him. Minimus, for once, did not seem to care – those tears that had grown in the corners of his optics ran over and streaked down his cheeks. He was shaking. “Shut up. You’re not- it’s not fair. I don’t care how guilty you are, how much you think you deserve it. I don’t- I don’t- You’re the only one who’s ever g-genuinely loved me and they’re taking you away and it’s  _ not fair! _ ” 

With that, he buried his sobbing face into Megatron’s chest, weakly beating against it with one closed fist. Megatron felt like his spark was breaking. Suddenly, dying felt so much more horrible a destiny.

“Minimus- I’m-... I’m sorry. I love you, I’ve loved you for eight hundred years, but I never thought-“ He couldn’t say any more. He couldn’t bear it. 

“Please,” Minimus hiccuped, raising his head to level a teary gaze at him. “Kiss me. Please. Please. That’s all I need.” That’s all he could have. 

The prisoner’s last request was granted without question. 

Minimus’s lips were so much smaller than Megatron’s, but he kissed hard and fast, as if trying to make up for a thousand lost chances. Megatron, on the other hand, was slow and gentle – somber, like a slow march into the ocean. He could feel the water rushing over his head. Minimus’s hands circled Megatron’s neck, tracing every individual cable and eliciting shivers from the enormous frame below him. Megatron broke their kiss and moved lower to mouth at Minimus’s neck. Minimus gasped softly. 

“ _ Megatron, _ ” Minimus sobbed. “...O-only when I’m with you do I feel like- like I’m worth something.”

He felt wetness on his neck, and held Megatron tighter. 

If only they could have stayed there forever. If only the guard would never return to their post. If only Cybertron ceased to turn, if the stars ceased to shine, if the past and future slowed to a standstill and waited, waited for them to be done, to be satisfied. 

But Minimus heard the click of the door at the end of the hallway. 

He pushed Megatron back, who stared at him with an injured expression. “I have to go. I-“ He glanced to the bars of the cell, then back to Megatron’s kiss-swollen lips. Minimus dove back in and kissed Megatron hard enough to hurt. “I’ll be there. Tomorrow. ...I love you.”

Then, he stepped to the ground and wiped away the tear tracks on his frame. Just in time for the guard to arrive, open the cell, and return everything to what it had seemed before. 

Minimus walked away without looking back. 

The next day, Megatron was led to his death. A triple-tap – the only way they could make sure he was dead for certain. The audience was a small one, as they had wanted no spectacle for this. Some members of the galactic council were in attendance, as well as Prowl and Windblade, the new leader of Cybertron. Megatron hoped she did well. It was what her people deserved. 

Then there was Minimus. He was dwarfed by his seat in his irreducible form, but Megatron thought him immeasurably beautiful. 

Someone was announcing something. Megatron didn’t care. He could only stare out into the audience and think of Minimus’s lips against his. He would never attain redemption – he knew that well. But he had, if for only a brief time, Minimus’s love. 

Perhaps that was enough. 

Behind the reinforced glass, Minimus was trembling minutely. Megatron was looking at him. He wanted to spring out of his chair, break through the glass, wrest his love from that horrible machine and kiss him and kiss him and kiss him and- 

Megatron was mouthing something. They could not hear anything from the chamber beyond, but Minimus understood, and it made his spark clench. 

_ “Noted, with than-“ _

There was an echoing  _ shunk. _

As Minimus shook in his chair, hand over his mouth to prevent a sob from slipping between his lips, he supposed it was a kind of justice.

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, I've had a version of this fic bouncing around in my head since the end of LL last November. So I'm glad Minimegs Week finally prompted me to get this out there! 
> 
> >:)


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